ONE FINE DAY

Robert CrossCHICAGO TRIBUNE

On weekends, we tend to settle in, work on the garden, salt the sidewalk or figure out what Home Depot might do for our extremely old and repair-needy house. Still, once in a while, we long to find a context for the place we've lived in for more than 20 years.

One Saturday, slightly less hectic than most, the spouse and I finally caught up with the Edgewater Historical Society and Museum, 5358 N. Ashland Ave. The place had piqued my curiosity several times, during long Sunday walks. It's in a refurbished firehouse with an inviting little terrace in the back, complete with gazebo and park bench.

Trouble is, the museum is open only from 1 to 4 p.m. on Saturdays, prime time for shopping, golf, errands and almost anything but a history lesson. Well, this was a Saturday, a fine one at that, so we made it a point to drop in.

MORNING

On an ideal morning (just not this one) we might have stopped for a bite at M. Henry, 5707 N. Clark St. The place serves breakfast, lunch and weekend brunch with a modernistic flair -- scrambled organic tofu, spinach/onion/chevre sandwiches, a "vegan epiphany," that sort of thing. The motto, "Chow for Now" is certainly justified.

This, however, was a day devoted to the past, at least for a little while.

AFTERNOON

In the museum, a half-dozen men and women sat at a long table where Engine No. 79 once parked. They were working on the upcoming spring fundraiser and left us alone to browse.

The old firehouse lacks fine paintings or dioramas, but the walls did feature photographs and posters tracing the history of 100-year-old neighborhood churches. A display case held handsome old posters advertising the Edgewater Beach Hotel, as well as a few items from its nightclub and dining rooms.

Poking around the museum, we learned that John Lewis Cochran, a tobacco salesman from Philadelphia, laid out the neighborhood starting in 1885. His initial purchase included land from the lakeshore west to Broadway -- then called Evanston Avenue. On the south, the border was Foster Avenue -- then called West 59th Street -- and on the north, Bryn Mawr Avenue.

EVENING

We bade our neighbors farewell before the museum could close, and we thought about grabbing a big, juicy hamburger at Moody's Pub, 5910 N. Broadway (nee Evanston Avenue).

Moody's has a historical context we could actually remember: dark interior, scarred wooden tables, exposed brick, stained glass -- resolutely '60s, hippie, Baby Boomer and fat-saturated. Moody's also has a wonderful, tree-shaded terrace for Edgewater's al fresco periods. That in mind, we chose to postpone our Moody's indulgence until the first warm day of spring, and we returned to our creaky floors.